In our adventures into the world of Baby Land, no experience thus far has been as uniquely uncomfortable as Breastfeeding Class and Accerlated Childbirth Class Part I. Now my first thought about all of this, is "women have been giving birth from the beginning, and they didn't need a class." My second thought was, "I have never changed a diaper." So I signed up for the classes.

The purpose of Breastfeeding Class is to communicate the wonders of breastfeeding, show techiques, and pretty much confuse me and confirm that breastfeeding is going to be one of the biggest challenges I have ever faced. Lovely. So glad I paid like $125 for this.

The whole thing was weird on so many levels. First it is weird to be in a room with 21 other women who are just as pregnant as you are. (There were also 4 uncomfortable husbands, I didn't make Derek come, aren't I sweet.) Second I get the giggles. I have the sense of humor of an 12 yr old boy. So the mention of nipples, boobs, etc makes me want to crack up laughing, add to that the overall boredom and nervous atmosphere and the stupid ass questions that people ask, I was on the verge of cracking up the entire time. Third, I haven't been "lectured" by an adult since college, and I didn't like it much then, and I didn't like it much on Thursday of last week either. For the first hour the lactaction consultant lectured us about the importance of solely breastfeeding (from the boob) for at least the first 3 weeks, she then went on and on about "the breast is the best." And all I kept thinking was, "YAH I GET IT, I am drinking the breastmilk kool aid, that is why I paid $125 to figure out how to do it, NOW SHOW ME SOME BRASS TACTICS!"

At the end of the 3 hour class, I did learn some tactics and "how-to" tips as well as some of the scary realities of the situation. (Which I won't share, no need to scare innocent folks.) But at the end of the day, learning to breastfeed without a baby is like someone teaching you to parellel park without a car. And we all know how well I drive.

So Derek was spared the Breastfeeding Class, but there was no way he was getting out of going to the Accerlated Childbirth Class. Yesterday we went to Part I. In the first half they went through the process of labor, and reminded us that first time Mom are in labor for an average of 14 hours. (Since it is an average I am looking at the bright side and thinking that my chances are still good for a 2 hour labor, since there are women on the other end of that scale.)

And yes, they showed the dreaded video.

The dreaded video, The Miracle of Birth 2 (apparently watching 1, isn't a pre-req.) We watched 3 births. An epidural birth, a demerol birth, and a natural birth. Watching the babies actually come out, wasnt that bad. I think I was tramatized by "The Miracle of Life" video they made us watch in the 7 grade and thought it would be worse. But ask the husband that was sitting to my left if the video wasn't "that bad" and I think he would disagree. As soon as they showed the baby crowning, he started what sounded like a chant of "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." He said it for the whole time the baby was coming out. Poor wife of his. I hope we end up at the hospital at the same time as them. They should prove to be entertaining. The sadest part about the video is that women were sitting around saying, "oh I am definitely getting the epidural." Since the epidural example was to them the lesser of the three evils. I wanted to burst their bubble and mention how most of my friends that had epidurals had to have the epidural lowered to the point that it didn't make much difference because they could actively push the baby out. I know I am such a cynic.

After the video we got to practice breathing techniques, massage, and labor positions. Wearing my denim maternity mini-skirt wasn't the best choice. I hated all of the touching. Breathing (and having Derek breathe with me) and rubbing my belly is GAY. Laying on my side while Derek massaged my head also GAY. Facing one another and breathing while rubbing my shoulders, GAY GAY GAY. Watching the oxthordox Jewish couple's husband massage his wife's ass, funny.

Then we got to do prenatal Yoga. I thought Derek was going to walk out. You can't make Derek do Yoga, it just isn't fair. The poor guy wants a beer and a cigarette, don't make him bring his hands to his heart. Thank god that the prenatal Yoga was the last of the activities, and we got out of there 2 hours ahead of schedule. (We were the first ones to the elevator.)

This Sunday we have Part II, which includes a hospital tour and an infant care class. (I think the next blog will be entitled, Don't Shake the Baby, cause we are pretty sure that they are going to lecture us about that for at least 2 hours.)